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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27585104">Daughter Of Glass</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navi01/pseuds/Navi01'>Navi01</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ikenfell (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Minor Spoilers, Mother-Daughter Relationship, POV First Person</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:41:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,205</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27585104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navi01/pseuds/Navi01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months after the spelltower, Pertisia finally contacts her parents for the first time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Daughter Of Glass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>****SPOILERS FOR END OF GAME**** <br/>For reference, this takes place after the end of the game but before the final scene.</p><p>Also, this is the first big thing I've written in first person, so the tenses might be a little off. o(^▽^)o</p><p>Also, the pacing is kinda weird on this, not gonna lie. Sorry  ｍ（｡≧ _ ≦｡）ｍ</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I stepped out into the brisk winter air. The burgundy motel door closed behind me with a creek, and I pulled out my key to lock it shut. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I rubbed my compact mirror and began to walk. It was the only real relic of who I was before, aside from the giant scars on my left eye. The snow crunched beneath my winter boots, and my breath formed a cloud in front of my face. This cold was just another reminder of that fire witch I couldn't stop thinking about. Maybe I'll call her instead… No. Not now. That was too slippery of a slope, and I had to call my family. It had been six months since that night in the spelltower, and I hadn't talked to them since. I hadn't talked to anyone from Ikenfell since.<br/>After a few more minutes of fighting myself, I arrived at the phone booth. It was a small rectangular glass structure with a metal lining. The door was folded open already, and a thin carpet of snow coated the ground inside in response. I stepped in, the glass around me immediately making my hair stand on end. This never happened before I stopped casting, but I guess being out of practice did that to a witch. <br/>I struggled to close the phone booth door behind me. The snow and ice made it a hassle, and when it did give it slammed shut, drawing attention from all the normals around me. I felt my cheeks redden as I turned to the pay phone, pretending to push the buttons. I wasn't quite ready for the real thing yet. The glass box was covered in frost. Snow built up against the side, giving me a uniquely flat look at it from inside the booth. <br/>Magic felt different out here, away from Ikenfell. It always did, whether it was summer vacation or a family trip. Not less powerful, just… muted. Now, however, it felt like something just out of my reach, as though my fingertips were barely brushing it. I touched my hand to the glass, trying to feel it the way I did before. The surface was cold to the touch. I felt the potential inside, but none of the power. I had no idea if it would ever come back to me, or if I had to learn it all over again. No one with magic had ever tried to give it up before on record, so there was really no protocol for this. I could probably ask Ima or Rook for help but, again, I've been off the grid for a while. <br/>Sighing, I leaned against the opposite wall, looking at the phone with dread. The longer I waited, the worse it would get. It's only your parents, I thought foolishly. Yes, I was their daughter, but we rarely saw eye to eye. The only difference now was that I finally disobeyed them. I’d be lying if I said I wasn't happier now, but they deserved closure as much as I did. Still… this wouldn't be an easy phone call. <br/> A ball of stress filled my stomach as I looked at the scenery outside, stalling for time. Normal architecture was similar to Magical. It was one of many ways we’ve kept ourselves hidden through the years. Red and brown brick buildings surrounded me. Shops, restaurants, houses, everything. The small town I’d been staying in had an even smaller magical community, though it didn't bug me as much as I expected. The hardest part by far was my scars. I hadn't felt stares like that since before I started hiding them. They were part of me, and I knew this, but getting used to all the looks was still rough. Suddenly self conscious, I pulled a strand of platinum hair to cover it as I continued to take in the scenery.<br/>These days, I’ve been staying in a cramped motel called “The Eagle And Lion”. It wasn't quite as regal as it's name, but the rooms were cheap and the owner was nice enough. Honestly, compared to the other places I've stayed these past months it was a dream. Descent  bed, good location, and a proper room cleaning everyday. What more could a girl ask for?<br/>One of the bars nearby was letting me perform every night. It was run by a magical couple, but normals frequented it too. They let me play whatever I wanted - a freedom I never really got before - and come in before hours to practice and compose. It was all so weird: I was finally doing what I've always wanted to, but I was still so alone. Nothing new in that, I guess. <br/>But there were more important things right now. Like calling my parents. Shoot. There were people I could call first - people I’d rather call first - but this loose end of my life needed to be tied. <br/>I pulled a quarter from my coat pocket and slid it into the hole. It clinked as it hit the bottom of the machine. It was far too difficult to find a quarter here. Apparently no one here wanted to trade a gold coin for some change. The black buttons on the phone were smooth from wear. I shuttered thinking about how many people had touched it before me, but pushed the thought away. Germs were absolutely not the reason I’d skip out on this. After a deep inhale and exhale, I pushed the final number. <br/>We didn't use telephones often at home - not many magical families did - but a big black rotary phone sat at the bottom of the staircase for emergencies. I prayed it was still there as the handset began to ring in my ear. As the sound went, I went over what I needed to say one last time. <br/>And the phone rang. <br/>Once. <br/>Twice. <br/>Thrice. <br/>Then a click. <br/>	“Hello?” Mom. Her voice hasn't changed a bit in the past six months. I stood in shock. She was there. I was hearing her voice. I prepared for this, but in the back of my mind I somehow thought it wouldn't happen. Maybe no one would pick up, or I would chicken out.<br/>	After a moment, I snapped back to reality, remembering that this was real. “M-mom?” You could practically hear her jaw drop from here. <br/>	“P… Pertisia?”<br/>	I closed my eyes and sighed. My breath was visible in the low temperature, but my cheeks heated anyways. “Hi, mom.”<br/>	“Pertisia? Where are you? Are you safe?” <br/>	“I'm fine. I-”<br/>	“Well where are you? I'll send a car immediately, just tell me where.” <br/>	A headache was forming in my temple already. She was trying to control me immediately, after six months of space. Just once, could she let me say my piece? “I’m… I'm not actually coming back. Not yet.” Static on the other end of the phone hung for too long as I waited for an answer. I pictured her there, standing at the table with that rarely seen stunned look on her face. Mom was tall - taller than dad - and had my same white hair. Hers was long and straight last time I saw her, and was usually tied in a slick ponytail. Her face was much longer than mine, with sharper edges. Finally, she spoke, choosing her words carefully. <br/>	“We haven't seen you for months. Come back, just for a day or two, then be on your way. We miss you, Pertisia” My blood boiled. She was guilting me - manipulating me - into playing her games all over again. Trying to keep my cool, my voice held calm. <br/>	“I won't go, mom. But I'd like to talk now.” Immediately changing direction, she answered in her best “I am your mother and will be obeyed” voice. Loving, but sharper than a knife. <br/>“Pertisia Anastasia Abednego, come home now. You can't run away with no note for half a year, only to call out of the blue and expect me to let you disappear again.” I hated when she used my full first name. No one used it, regardless of whether we were friends or not. Pertisia was so pretentious. Perti was… well, it was me. <br/>“Mom, I just… I can't right now. I'm sorry.” My voice began to crack as I brushed hot tears from my cheeks. I swore this wouldn't happen. She heard this and softened her tone, however slight. <br/>“Pertisia…” She didn't usually like this kind of show of weakness, and I could practically see her rubbing the bridge of her nose in annoyance. “Fine. We can talk now. But this better be good.” An uncontrollable smile crossed my face as I sighed in relief. Mom never backed down. Maybe she finally respected me now? Unlikely. She was probably too tempted to get me back, or too surprised by my call. Either way, Mom was still off her game, which I once thought was impossible. <br/>“It will be. I promise.” After taking a deep, reassuring breath I brushed a white strand of hair from my good eye and began to speak. “That night… with all the earthquakes? Six months ago?” The whole ordeal with the sapling had been covered up well, and for once the normals knew as much as the magicians. Just a night with a bunch of tremors, or so the record says. “Well, umm, Ikenfell was hit really hard, and some of my friends got hurt, so I just kinda… left.” Great. Even in my stories I was a coward. <br/>“Is that all you are going to say?” Mom was being patient, and I appreciated that, even with her cold undertones. She was trying. In response, my tone remained calm as well. <br/>“For now, yes. I promise to tell you the truth about that soon, but not yet.” I heard her sigh through her nose at this response, but to my delight she didn't push any harder. That night was definitely too much for me right now, and would probably be better explained in person anyway. “After I left, I just, kind of… wandered. I left in such a hurry, and all I had was my mirror and some money.” Not that I've used the mirror since. “I headed to that town east of Ikenfell, the one we used to stop at before school when I was younger?” <br/>“Mhm,” mom hummed in confirmation that she remembered. It was a small town, and home to a mainly magical population. In my first years at the school, mom, dad, and I would go there before dropping me off. We’d eat at this little diner at the edge of town. Then, in my third year, my grades started dropping. We stopped going there, I stopped playing piano, and that was really when we stopped being a family. Music was my escape from all the stress and rules. And from myself. Without that, the world was black and white.<br/>“Well, umm, they were really shaken up by the tremors, too. When I got there, I found someone else from school. Bea? She lived there, and when stuff started happening she came home to be with her family. Anyway, she saw me in the street and ran over, and we started talking. I told her I had no place to go, and her family took me in for the night.”<br/>“But you did have somewhere to go. Why would you want to put this family out instead of coming home to your own?” <br/>“I… I don't know, mom. But this is the truth, and I don't want to lie if I don't have to.” It was a fair question. But after I left Ikenfell with no goodbyes, I knew it would be a while before I could see anyone again. So much happened that night… I just needed some time to be with myself. I wasn't used to friendship or honesty, and both of those concepts hit me really hard in those final days. <br/>But anyway. <br/>Mom sighed again at that answer, and, again, I couldn't really blame her. “Okay. Well, I guess, thanks for the truth at least. What happened next?” She was being so much more agreeable than I remembered. Did I really do that much damage when I left?<br/>“I stayed with Beas family for two days.” Their house was packed with terrariums full of bugs and insects. Her parents were entomologists, and spent all their time studying the creatures. I guess that's where Bea got her obsession. I wasn't there long enough to fully get used to the things, which was really a releaf. They creeped me out of my skin, but I was grateful for their hospitality nonetheless. The whole family was incredibly kind and welcoming, despite their… odd interests.  “I offered to pay them for their troubles, but they wholeheartedly refused. They even sent me on my way with a little food.” At the time, I had told them I was going home. The lie didn't sit well with me after all their generosity, but I wasn't really sure they would let me leave otherwise; Beas parents were very caring. <br/>I slid another quarter absentmindedly as the warning ring began again in the handset. This wasn't really going how I had expected at all - on one hand, mom was actually listening to my story. I had hoped she would, but I never expected it to come this easily. On the other hand… well, that this was happening at all. In theory, I always knew I would talk to her again at some point in my life. But that it was actually happening - that it got to be on my terms - was almost… magical. I smirked to myself at the irony. <br/>Apparently I had been quiet for too long, as mom spoke up. “Pertisia? What happened next?” She sounded concerned, as if she thought I would vanish again.<br/>“Er- sorry. Got distracted for a moment. Anyway, after I left Bea and her family, I kept going east.” I wasn't exactly superb at the local geography of Ikenfell, so this was really just a nicer way of saying that I wandered aimlessly. “There was this woman - Alana - who let me travel with her in her truck.” I heard mom suck in a sharp breath at this and could practically hear her thoughts - “Hitchhiking, Pertisia? Really? What if she had been insane? Or a murderer?” I decided to reassure her, lest those thoughts become words. “Don't worry, mom. She was a witch too, and sister to the groundskeeper at Ikenfell.” As far as I could tell, at least, though I was never quite sure. Alana had the same round face and messy brown hair as Sigbert, and they seemed to be together a lot, though that could all just be my speculation. I'm still here now, at least, so she didn't murder me. <br/>“I rode with her for another three days, until we arrived at a city.” I knew if I told mom anywhere else I'd been, she’d come track me down faster than a bloodhound. “From there, I found a motel to spend the night in.” That was one of my worst nights since I'd left. Until that point in my life, I'd only slept in good, soft beds. Having a rich childhood definitely had it's perks, but it also made reality bite back a little harder. I managed, though, as everyone has to. “The next morning, I began trying to figure out what I was actually doing.” <br/>Moms breath hitched at this, as though this was what she was waiting for all along. It made sense - if my only child ran away with no note I'd want to know what was so important. I cringed a little at the thought. I really had been a horrible daughter. And a horrible friend. Come on, Perti. <br/>“After some thinking, I realized what I really wanted to do with my life.” I took a deep breath in - this was it. The part of my story I had no idea how she would react to. The one variable. “I… I realized that I wanted to make music. Want to make music.” Static hung on the other end of the phone for a beat too long. <br/>“Music?” She finally asked quietly. My entire life had been on a strict path from day one. Go to Ikenfell, graduate top of my class, get into one of those fancy magic universities, then take over the family business. Music was never on the table. Never meant to be more than a hobby, or an achievement on a resume. Never meant to be a career. <br/>“...Yeah. I've been traveling and performing at bars all over,” I spoke softly, as if that could make up for running away to write songs. The sky around me was starting to turn from a cool blue to a light violet. I couldn't keep this up much longer - it was already too cold when the sun was out, not to mention the fight I was inevitably about to get in with mom. On the phone, again, I heard static. Than… rustling? “Mom?” I asked louder now, genuinely confused as to what was happening. <br/>“Sorry, Pertisia, could you give me a minute?” Before I could answer the phone clanked as if it had been put down. I began to worry - was someone there? Was she in trouble? Moments later, however, she picked up the phone again, now seemingly out of breath. <br/>“Are you okay?” I sounded concerned. She breathed into the receiver before speaking again. <br/>“Yes, sorry. I, umm, know you don't want to see us yet, but if you're performing, we’d… we’d love to see a show.” Oh. Oh. This was unexpected, to say the least. “Is… would you give us the address of where you're playing next? I just grabbed some paper and a pen...” Her voice was so tentative, so unsure. She had never asked me for anything like this before. <br/>“Umm…” I started, with no real end in sight. What do I say? This was never part of the plan. This was meant to be a short, simple conversation with no strings attached at the end. But she was being so agreeable. So nice. So… motherly. I couldn't say no after all that, could I?<br/>	“It's okay.” Her voice was deflated at my silence interpreted as rejection. Who was this woman? “I shouldn't have pushed this on you after so long. Take your time, Pertisia. But, when you're ready… well, your father and I would love to see one of your performances.”<br/>	Deep breath, Perti. “No, mom. It's okay. You… you should come. Both of you.”<br/>	She answered quickly, over eagerly. “Really?” I smiled at this, and my eyes began to fill with tears again. Not from anger, or sadness, or even happiness. It was… releaf.  Mom was different than I remembered. Not just in her words, but in her tone. She was happy for me, and she really meant it. <br/>	“Yeah. I'm so sorry I left mom; I'm so sorry I lied. But you guys should both come. I'll tell you everything about that night, and everything since. I… I promise.”</p>
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